The Innocent
by whatisair
Summary: OotP AU: Sirius survives the battle in the Department of Mysteries only to be captured in the Ministry. Dumbledore fights for Sirius' right for a trial, the Magical Community is calling for Fudge's replacement, and Harry finally understands what it's like to have a family. Pre-Harry/Ginny. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Harry Potter sadly, not even a little bit.**

 _ **Author's Notes at the end.**_

* * *

"Harry," Remus said, breathless, "round up the others and GO!"

Harry seized Neville by the shoulder of his robes and lifted him bodily onto the first tier of the stone steps. Neville's legs twitched and jerked and would not support his weight. Harry heaved again with all the strength he possessed and they climbed another step –

A spell hit the stone bench at Harry's heel; it crumbled away and he fell back to the step below. Neville sank to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing, and he thrust the prophecy into his pocket.

"Come on!" said Harry desperately, hauling at Neville's robes. "Just try and push with your legs-"

He gave another stupendous heave and Neville's robes tore all along the left seam – the small spun-glass ball dropped from his pocket and, before either of them could catch it, one of Neville's floundering feet kicked it: it flew some ten feet to their right and smashed on the step beneath them. As both of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air, untouched by any but them. Harry could see its mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could he hear. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness.

"Harry, I'b sorry!" cried Neville, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder. "I'b so sorry Harry, I didn'd bean do-"

"It doesn't matter!" Harry shouted. "Just try and stand, let's get out of-"

" _Dumbledore_!" said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported, staring over Harry's shoulder.

"What?"

"DUMBLEDORE!"

Harry turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body – _they were saved_.

Dumbledore sped down the steps past Neville and Harry, who had no more thoughts of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realised he was there and yelled to the others. One of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's spell him back easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line –

One pair were still battling, apparently unware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

"Is that all you've got, Trixie?" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. "Come on, you can do better than that!"

Bellatrix made an angry, federal sound, her dark eyes flashing with undisguised distain, but it only made Sirius laugh harder. A second jet of red light shot out from her wand, almost hitting Harry's godfather straight in the chest, but it bounced off the stone arch as Sirius twisted away at the last moment.

With a whip-like movement, Sirius pointed his wand back at the female Death Eater and colourless light shot from its tip, sending her sprawling from the high dais.

For a moment it looked as if she was unconscious, then her leg twitched and Bellatrix rolled into a crouch, sending off a blur of curses that bounded of the edges of the archway with brilliant sparks of light, making the grey curtain ripple. She was knocked back again as Sirius sent a spell spinning in her direction, hitting her in the shoulder.

She scrambled to her feet, turned tail and ran. Sirius aimed another spell at her but she deflected it, reaching the doorway at the stop of the steps.

Sirius said nothing more, the smile slipping from his wasted, once-hansom face, surveying his mad cousin's escaping figure darkly.

Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, seeming immobilised by invisible ropes; Mad-Eye Moody had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay sprawled on the floor, and was attempting to revive her; behind the dais there were still flashes of light, grunts and cries – Kingsley was finishing off the last remaining cloaked figures with apparent ease.

"Harry?"

Neville slid down the stone bench to where Harry had remained stationary since Dumbledore had arrived.

"Harry?" Neville asked cautiously. "Shouldn't be go and bind the others?"

Harry turned and stared at the blond boy vacuously.

Remus appeared beside them. "Here," he said quietly, and pointing his wand at Neville's legs he said, " _Finite_." The spell was lifted. Neville's legs fell back to the floor and remained still. "Let's go find the others – Sirius, get over here. Where are they all, Neville?"

"Dey're all back dere," said Neville. "A brain addacked Ron bud I dink he's alright – and Herbinone's unconscious, bud we could feel a bulse…"

"Come on, we need to go." Harry felt himself being pulled to his feet by a firm hand on his elbow. He stumbled clumsily up the steps behind his Godfather, listening mutely as Sirius spoke to is greying friend: "… Kingsley and Moody can take care of the others, we just need to find the children and Floo them back to Hogwarts. Minerva's waiting there…"

They made it to the Brain Room where Luna lay sprawled across the floor groaning. Ginny sat next to her, leaning heavily against the wall, clutching her ankle tightly with an expression of pain pinching her face. Ron was rocking back and forth on the floor, gigging feebly, and Hermione was still unconscious.

"Sirius, you go on," Remus said, already striding over to Ginny and Luna. "Get Harry out of here."

He saw Sirius nod in return.

The hand on his elbow gave him a little push forward to the door on the other side of the room and they were jogging towards the spinning room. Bellatrix had closed exit door behind her and the walls were already rotating. Once more, Harry found he was surrounded by streaks of blue light from the whirling candelabra.

"Show me the exit," Sirius said calmly from beside him.

The room seemed to have been waiting for one of them to ask. The door to the right behind him flew open and the corridor towards the lifts stretched out before them, yellow light reflecting off the titled walls. They were moving again…

Harry heard a lift clattering ahead. He quickened his pace up the passageway, swinging around the corner and Sirius slammed his fist onto the button to hail the passing lift. It jangled and banged, getting lower and lower. The grills slid open and Harry found himself being pushed inside first. The golden gate shut with a loud clash and the lift ascended slowly, chains rattling. Finally the same cool voice Harry had heard in both the telephone box and lift on the day of his Disciplinary Hearing rang out:

" _Level Eight, the Atrium_."

Harry stepped out of the lift and into the long hall, surveying the stretch of the panelled walls – even though he had only seen the Atrium once, it was odd to see the room so empty. He stood numbly by the Fountain of Magical Brethren as Sirius inspected the golden fireplaces.

Then he saw something.

"Harry – Harry?"

It was Bellatrix. She was almost at the red telephone lift at the other end of the hall. She glanced over her shoulder and he caught her gaze, suddenly feeling an uncontrollable, unfamiliar rage fill up inside of his chest. He wanted to hex her, _hurt_ her.

 _Do it_ , said a cold voice inside of his head. _You_ know _you want too_.

 _She almost killed Sirius,_ thought Harry bitterly.

 _She failed me_ , the cold voice hissed.

Harry flung himself forward, without really knowing why, and bellowed, " _Crucio_!"

Bellatrix screamed. The spell knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek as Neville had only moments before – she was already back on her feet, breathless, no longer laughing.

She levelled her want at his face and sent a curse spinning in his direction. Harry dodged behind golden statue. Her counter-spell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed some twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?" she yelled, her baby voice long forgotten. "You need to _mean_ them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain – to enjoy it – righteous anger won't hurt me for long – I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson-"

Harry was still edging around the fountain on the other side when she screamed, " _Crucio_!"

Suddenly he was sent sprawling off to one side as a body slammed into his and pushed him out of the way. The jet of red light that had been aimed for him hit Sirius straight in the chest and the older man doubled over, dropping to his knees, but made no sound. Dark hair covered his Godfather's face but Harry could still see a strip of pale skin as it drained from blood.

Suddenly, even though his arm was shaking vigorously under the pressure and pain of Bellatrix's hex, Sirius' wand came up. A burst of energy bolted out of the dark tip, hitting the edge of the fountain and spraying the female Death Eater with rubble and water.

Distracted, the hold on her curse ended and Sirius managed to roll to his feet. He stood silently for a moment watching his cousin squirm, a cold look flashing across his face.

"Pathetic," Sirius called.

Bellatrix's eyes flashed and she made a grab for her wand which had fallen meters away from her, but her cousin moved first.

" _Alarte Ascendare_!"

Bellatrix flew ten feet into the air and fell back onto the floor with a loud smack and emitted a slow whimper, like a kicked puppy. Her wand rolled away, landing at Sirius' feet with a clatter.

"You know," Sirius said, stepping closer to Harry, "for Voldemort's ' _most loyal servant_ ', you really are-"

"Don't say his name!" she screeched, sitting up with a grunt of pain. "You fifthly blood-traitor! Aunt Walburga should have killed you when she had the chance!" She glanced over them calculatedly before tugging up her sleeve and resting her thin fingers on the Dark Mark edged onto her pale skin. "Now, Potter, give me the prophecy – roll it towards me now – or I will call him!"

"Call him then," Harry shouted, and as his voice echoed around the room, pain seared across his forehead. His scar was on fire again, and he felt another strange surge of fury that was quite unconnected with his own. "It's gone – it smashed. And he knows!" said Harry, throwing his head back and laughing. "Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be very happy with you, is he?"

"What?" she cried, attempting to stand, but Sirius' wand was still pointed at her threateningly, and she grimaced. "What do you _mean_?" Harry heard real fear in her voice this time.

"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?"

His scar seared and burned… the pain of it was making his eyes stream…

"LIAR," she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind her anger plain and clear now. "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME!"

She scrambled forward in a vain, second attempt to grab her wand but it shot into Sirius' hand as he summoned it silently.

Harry laughed again, but the pain was building up inside his head so badly that he thought his skull might burst open.

He felt someone's hands on his shoulders. "Harry, listen to me," Sirius said worriedly, concern making his voice thick, "Harry-" But whatever Sirius had been about the say was drowned out by Bellatrix's shrieking from the floor.

"No!" she screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying. MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED – DO NOT PUNISH ME-"

As Sirius snapped, "Shut up!" finally losing his temper, Harry yelled, "Don't waste your breath! He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?" asked a high, cold voice.

Tall, thin and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-like eyes staring… Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry who once again found himself being pushed away as Sirius stepped in front of him.

"So, you smashed my prophecy?" said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry as though his Godfather didn't exist between them. "No Bella, he is not lying… I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind… months of preparation, months of effort… and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again…"

"Master, I am sorry-"

"Be quiet Bella," said Voldemort dangerously. "I shall deal with you later. Do you think I have enter the Ministry of Magic to hear your snivelling apologies?"

"But Master – _he_ is here – _he_ is below-"

Voldemort paid her no attention.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," he said quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long. _AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Harry had not even opened his mouth to resist. His mind was blank and his wand was pointing uselessly at the floor. Sirius dropped down to a crouch, pulling Harry down with him and the curse sailed harmlessly over their heads, hitting one of the empty fireplaces behind them.

Harry pushed against the hand that was still firmly planted on his shoulder. "Sirius-"

"Stay behind me," his Godfather commanded, and waved his wand saying, " _Protego Duo_!" and a shield erected around Harry, sheltering and trapping him in blue light.

Harry was momentarily blinded by the brightness of the shield, but by the time he looked up Sirius was standing again, wand level. Voldemort, finally forced to acknowledge Sirius' presence, did not laugh.

"Black."

"Voldemort," Harry's Godfather replied calmly, but Harry could see the nervous energy that seemed to rattle through Sirius's body. "You've got uglier."

"Move aside Black! Move aside now!"

Sirius' eyes remained on the robed figure before him. "I don't think so."

Voldemort's red eyes flared momentarily in annoyance and Harry felt panic rise inside of him

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

A flash of green light burst out of Voldemort's wand, but Sirius had been ready for it. He stepped aside and the curse streaked past him, the force slamming into a wall behind Harry which would have surely hit him if it weren't from the shield around him.

" _Expulso_!" Sirius yelled, and the spell bounced off the floor where Voldemort had been standing only seconds ago. He turned quickly, sending off another spell in Voldemort's new direction. " _Confringo_!"

Voldemort send of another quick procession of spells, all of which Sirius dodged, not even attempting to block them. Then Voldemort hissed, " _Mucus Adnauseam Tria_!"

The spell hit Sirius as he turned again and Harry saw his grey eyes widen in shock. He fought against the shield that was still trapping him as Sirius' body dropped to the floor like a marionette whose strings had just been severed, completely lifeless, as if all the strength had been tugged from his limbs. But the spell was relentless and he could do nothing but watch as the hooded monster stepped closer to his father's best-friend, his Godfather, and the only real person he had ever considered as a father-figure.

"Sirius!" Harry all but screamed. " _Sirius_!"

"Weak," Voldemort noted, pressing the toe of his shoe into Sirius' thin face. "Just like your worthless, traitor brother. _Crucio_!"

Unlike Bellatrix's curse, Voldemort's curse made Sirius _writhe_. Harry saw the sheer power the red-eyed monster displayed. His Godfather's upper body was trembling and his arms and legs jerking and spasming like a flaying animal. Harry saw that this time Sirius had slammed his teeth down on his lip to stop himself from crying out in pain, his eyes were still open and focused on the red eyes venomously.

His hand raised off the ground an inch and Harry though he was about to send Voldemort reeling like he had made Bellatrix, but the wand was knocked from his fingers by a foot treading carefully onto his thin fingers. Harry winced when he heard four loud _cracks_.

It seemed like hours but Harry new it had only been minutes before Voldemort dragged his wand away, ending the curse. By that time Sirius had closed his eyes and began letting out short whimper-like-screams though his nose.

"Defiance is futile, Sirius Black. Even your brother knew that." Voldemort bent lower, his eyes flashing quickly over to Harry. "Take down that shield."

Despite the obvious pain he was in, Sirius smiled. "Or what?" he gasped. "What are you going to do snake-face?"

Voldemort sneered. " _Avada_ _Kedav_ -"

The headless golden statue of the wizard in the fountain sprung alive, leaping from its plinth to land with a crash on the floor between Sirius and Voldemort. The spell merely glanced off its chest as the statue flung out its arms to protect his unarmed Godfather, much to Harry's relief.

"What-?" cried Voldemort, glancing around. And then he breathed, " _Dumbledore_!"

Harry looked up from the prone figure of Sirius, his heart pounding.

Dumbledore was standing in front of the golden grills of the lift.

Voldemort raised his wand and another jet of green light streaked at Dumbledore, who turned and was gone in whirl of his cloak. A second later he had reappeared behind Voldemort and waved his wand towards the remnants of the fountain. Another of the statues sprang to life.

The statue of the witch ran to Bellatrix who was still sobbing. She screamed as it dived at her, pinning her to the floor.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," said Dumbledore calmly. "The Aurors are on their way-"

"By which time I shall be gone, and you will be dead!" spat Voldemort. He send another killing curse at Dumbledore but missed, instead hitting the security guard's desk, which burst into flames.

Dumbledore flicked his own wand: the force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Harry, although still shielded by Sirius' spell, felt his hair stand on end. Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air. The spell, whatever it was, causing no visible damage to the shield, though a deep gong-like note reverberated from it – an oddly chilling sound.

"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" called Voldemort. "Above such brutality, are you?"

"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Though, merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit-"

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!" snarled Voldemort, but his eyes flickered over to Harry and it seemed, by pure strength of mind, the shield that had been protecting him burst into a thousand pieces dropping to the ground like black dust. His scar burst open and he felt like he was dead – he _knew_ he was dead. The pain was beyond all imagining, pain past endurance –

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of the monster with red eyes, so tightly that Harry did not know where his body ended and the monster's began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape –

" _Kill me now, Dumbledore_ …"

Harry found himself saying, blinded and dying.

" _If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy_ …"

 _Let it stop_ , thought Harry, _let the pain stop_ … _let the pain kill us_.

 _I'll see my parents._

But no. He couldn't leave. Not without saying goodbye. He couldn't leave Sirius, Ron and Hermione. Or Ginny, Neville and Luna… He couldn't leave when the fighting had only _really_ begun.

Harry's heart filled with emotion and the monster's coils loosened. The pain was gone instantly, like it had never been there in the first place. As he opened his eyes, Harry found that his glasses were gone, but he could gorge that he was lying face down on the floor that felt more like ice than wood, surrounded by a circle of silver-blue dust that had been Sirius' shield.

His attention was drawn to a glinting out of the corner of his eye and he scrambled towards his glasses which were lying inches feet away. He slipped them on and raised his head to find Dumbledore's crooked nose inches away from his own.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said shakily, attempting to sit up properly. "Yeah, I'm – where's Voldemort, where's Sirius – who are all these – what's happening-?"

The Atrium was flooding with people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into life along one wall, and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them. As the ancient Headmaster helped Harry to his feet, he saw Cornelius Fudge pushing his way forward with a stunned expression.

"He was there!" shouted someone from deep within the crowd. "I saw him, Mr Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"

"I know Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" Fudge gibbered. He was wearing pyjamas under his pinstriped cloak and was breathing heavily, like he had just run ten miles. "Merlin's beard – here – here! – in the Ministry of Magic – great heavens above – it doesn't seem possible – my word – how can this be-?"

"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, stepping forward, now apparently satisfied that Harry really was alright. A few people in the crowd raised their wands, other's just stood jaw-slack and staring, "you may find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and waiting your decision as to what to do with them."

"Dumbledore!" Fudge gasped, beside himself. "You – here – I – I don't know what to say-"

But he was cut off by someone screaming.

"Sirius Black! That's _Sirius Black_! Here – in the Ministry!"

Harry whipped around, first to the speaker who he could not see through the mass of pyjama clad Ministry workers and reporters, and then to his Godfather who was attempting to sit up without much luck.

Fudge looked around wildly at the Aurors he had brought with him – and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, "Seize him!"

His voice had took on a blustering tone, almost as though he was waiting for someone else to tell him what to do. "I – don't – well – Dawlish! Williamson! Shacklebolt – where is that man?" he called finally, struggling to look in command.

"Here, Minister."

Harry looked around at the sound of Kingsley's voice. The Auror had just stepped out of a golden lift; the cool voice of the lady could be heard saying, "… _Eight, the Atrium_ …"

"Well – I – You will escort B-Black, down to the Department of Law Enforcement, where he will sent to Azkaban to await the Dememtor's Kiss."

"NO!"

Harry stumbled unsteadily to his feet.

"No," he said more firmly this time. "No, you can't do that. Professor-"

But Dumbledore glanced at him over the top of his glasses with an expression that made harry fall silent and his sentence died only half way out of his mouth.

The Minister seemed to be attempting to look anywhere but the old Headmaster.

"As Harry just said, Cornelius, I really don't think-"

"Harry – as in _Harry Potter_?"

Fudge spun around and stared at Harry, who was standing only a little behind Dumbledore by the headless golden statue of the wizard that had protected Sirius during Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel, Sirius momentarily forgotten.

"He – here?" Fudge blinked stupidly. "Why – what's all this about?"

"I shall explain everything," Dumbledore told the Minister, "once Harry has returned to school."

His first thought was to argue with the old Headmaster. He wasn't about to leave, not then his friends were injured and still in the Department of Mysteries, not when there were Death Eaters to deal with, not when his Godfather was about to be arrested _again_ for a crime he had never committed.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kingsley helping Sirius to his feet, who seemed far too content leaning upon the dark-skinned Auror.

"But – You-Know-Who – I – and Black-"

"As I said, I will explain everything-"

"I – I demand that you hand him over at once," Fudge said, pointing a shaking finger at Sirius as if doing even that would blow him up like Harry's Godfather had apparently blown up Wormtail. "Two years, Dumbledore, two years he has been at large. And you – hiding him and conspiring with him. I want you arrested-"

Dumbledore ignored him, summoning the golden wizard's head that they on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, " _Portus_." The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.

"N-now see here, Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head. "You haven't got the authorisation for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister for Magic, you – you-"

Harry had to quench the urge to shout at the blustering fool to shut up. Fudge faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him over his half-moon spectacles.

"You will give the order to remove Delores Umbridge from Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. "You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you…" Dumbledore pulled out a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and glanced at it "… half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here and the situation concerning Mr Black. After that I shall return to my school. If you need any more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters address to the Headmaster will fine me."

Fudge's mouth, if anything, dropped even wider and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair.

"I – you-"

Dumbledore turned to Harry.

"Take this Portkey, Harry." The old Headmaster placed the wizard's head into his own hands. "I shall see you in half an hour," Dumbledore said quietly. "One… Two… Three…"

* * *

 **Author's Note** **: All you hp book nerds could probably tell that I "borrowed" quite a bit from the Order of the Phoenix for this chapter.**

 **Also, this was not at all beta read. If you have spotted any mistakes, please tell me and I'll change them.**

 **And go ahead: review; tell me what you thought!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's notes at the end.**

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was getting rather tired by the blubbering man before him. The portly Minister shifted again in his chair, red faced, tapping the edge of his overlarge desk with short, tubby fingers.

Even Kinsley, normally unperturbed, had exhausted eyes as he watched his employer. The Auror stood straight-backed by the fireplace, tight lipped, having not spoken so far.

"Cornelius-" Dumbledore said again. And, once again, he was interrupted:

"I really – Dumbledore – You-Know-Who?" said Fudge quickly, his fingers increasing in speed. "I – honestly-"

"Now that you prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort-" The aged Headmaster ignored the flinch that passed across Fudge's face, and the slight mumble of, "Is that name _really_ necessary?" "-has returned, I do believe it is high time you take my advice as you should have done a year ago."

A deep scarlet flush appeared on Fudge's lined face. "Who are you to come in here and tell me how to run my own Ministry-?!"

Dumbledore ignored him. "Foremost, the public need to know about the Dementors. As I suggested, the most essential step should have been to remove the Dementors from Azkaban."

Fudge opened his mouth in protest, but Dumbledore's eyes narrowed dangerously and his teeth snapped shut in a way that might had been comical if any part of this situation was remotely funny.

"Considering the resent mass-revolt," continued Dumbledore, "I think it prudent that the public know, or we may have many more occurrences like Harry's this past summer."

"I – Mass-revolt?" Fudge's face lost the beetroot-red blush and began to grow pale. His eyes dropped away from Dumbledore's intent gaze, scanning the room desperately for some kind of aid.

"You cannot hide behind ignorance any longer," said Dumbledore loudly, staring over the rims of his half-moon spectacles at the panicked man. "You should have known the Dementors would not remain loyal to you, just as I told you.

"Lord Voldemort has offered them far more than the Ministry ever has. With all of the Ministry's Dementors, and many of his old supporters returned to him, there is nothing stopping him from regaining the same power he had fourteen years ago.

"I've told you what has happened. I've warned you of what could happen." Dumbledore drew himself to his full height and Fudge, despite himself, seemed to grow smaller under his gaze. "Lord Voldemort has returned."

Fudge mumbled something under his breath before conceding with a small, "Yes – alright."

"Now, on the matter of Sirius Black," Dumbledore said, drawing out a small pocket watch and glancing at the time. "I expect a trial to be scheduled-"

"Trial? A _trial_?" Fudge spluttered, flabbergasted at the mere suggestion. His voice rose as he continued: "That – that man," he said, pointing his finger at nothing in particular, "is a raving mass murderer. He killed twelve muggles and little Peter Pettigrew, and you expect me to give him a _trial_?!"

"Yes," replied Dumbledore simply.

"But… that man deserves the Dementors Kiss – his sentence if caught was to be the Dementors Kiss-"

"I don't think that is quite necessary, Cornelius."

Fudge swallowed. "But-"

"If I may, Mr. Fudge?" asked Kingsley, then continued without even an indicator of approval from his employer. "Wouldn't it be a sign of good faith on the Ministry's part to give a trial before a sentence?"

"Black has already had a trial," Fudge snapped. "There is no need for another."

"I think you will find, Cornelius, that there wasn't," Dumbledore told him. "It was a case of _inter arma enim silent leges_ I'm afraid. Many Death Eaters were not tried and sent straight to Azkaban on an admission of confession, or simply because there was too much evidence for them to be trialled in the first place."

"Well," Fudge said again, shifting his weight. His eyes slid over to Kingsley as if expecting some kind of help there. The Auror's face was utterly stoic. "Yes, well, I suppose."

Dumbledore's face stretched out into a small smile, and he said, "Good, good," as he climbed to his feet and walked over to the door. "I'll be awaiting your owl on the matter, Cornelius. But now, I really must be going to see Mr Potter."

 **.o.O.o.**

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who had thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either much die at the hand of the other for neither can live with the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

 **.o.O.o.**

Harry halted in the door way to the Hospital Wing, clinging on to the edge of the doorframe. He surveyed the room blankly, his mind still buzzing from that news that he had received back in the Headmaster's office.

Absentmindedly, Harry reached up to touch his scar, remembering the cold voice in his head and the searing pain, as if every partial of his body wanted to explode. His fingers feel limp, comforted by the knowledge that Sirius had been right: the monster instead his head wasn't him, but Voldemort.

Ron's bed was the closest, and slowly, with almost lethargic movements, Harry wandered towards the chair by his bedside, sitting down like a person who had received a rather nasty shock – which, in all truth he just had.

His best friends' hair was vibrant against the stark white pillow. Ron lay on his side, one hand draped across his chest which rose and fell with ever-familiar snores. By Harry's feet was an empty bucket that still smelled strongly of vomit.

"Are you alright, Harry?" a small voice asked from behind him.

Harry span around and caught a flash of brilliant orange hair and milk white skin. Ginny was perched, rather owl-like, on the end of an empty bed. He noted her ankle, while obviously healed to some extent, was wrapped in pearly-white bandages.

"I think I should be asking you the same question," Harry replied, hardly recognising the sound of his own voice. Perhaps Ginny didn't hear it, or maybe she was simply polite enough to not mention that he sounded like a croaking frog.

"Me? Oh, I'm fine," Ginny said, peering down at her foot and giving it a little wriggle. "Madam Pomfrey fixed me in a trice."

"And the others?"

"Neville's fine apparently. His nose has been returned to its usual size so he doesn't sound so bad anymore." Her doe-brown eyes became softer. "He's sleeping now. I think seeing Bellatrix, after what she did to his parents, did a number on him."

Harry nodded numbly, remembering Neville's shy face in St. Mungo's that Christmas. The gentle way in which he had handled his mother. His grandmother's loud, proud voice under which he had withered.

"Luna? Hermione?"

"Luna's good," Ginny said, and pointed to her friend.

Luna was sitting up on her mattress, long hair draped around her shoulders like a light brown shawl, pooling across her lap. In her hands, she was clutching the latest edition of _The Quibbler_ , reading the magazine upside down and taking no interest in anything else around her.

A small grin appeared on Ginny's face. "She almost brings a sense of normality to the place, doesn't she?"

"Yeah."

Ginny sat back against the rails of the bed, the smile turning into a look of concern. "Madam Pomfrey is with Hermione now, but Professor Lupin said she'll be fine eventually."

Harry sat up a little straighter.

"Lupin was here?"

"Yeah, around twenty minutes ago, with Neville."

A look of desperation must have shown on his face because she asked, sounding equally concerned and intrigued, "Why? What's wrong Harry?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I just – I wanted to know what's going to happen to Sirius."

Ginny made a noise that seemed to come from the back of her throat. She slipped off her bed and came to sit on Ron's, taking his hand carefully between both of her own. "Kingsley's in charge of his case," she said quietly. "I'm sure nothing bad will happen."

"You don't know that," Harry didn't mean to sound accusing but Ginny didn't seem offended. "Anything could happen," he continued, less harsh. "They could send him back to Azkaban… give him the Kiss."

"Dumbledore won't let that happen."

Harry wasn't so sure. Dumbledore was brilliant, yes, but human all the same.

 **.o.O.o.**

As Lupin had predicted, Hermione was fine. She awoke two days after their return to Hogwarts. Harry spent his time between classes sitting between Ron and Hermione's beds in the Hospital Wing.

Ron, who complained more than once – but only behind Madam Pomfrey's back mind, fearing the Witches wrath – that he was simply bored, had created a game whereupon he would make soft clip-clopping noises, skilfully imitating the sounds of centaurs.

Whenever this happened, the prone figure of Umbridge, who lay on a hospital bed as far away from the wing entrance as possible, would jerk out of her otherwise completely still position, looking around wildly and making little squeaking sounds.

On these occasions the grey haired Healer would poke her head around the corner of her office and ask tiredly, "Anything wrong, Professor?" and give Ron a look somewhere between amusement and terrifying coolness.

Harry, along with Ginny and Hermione, both of whom began giggling whenever their ex-Headmistress began flaying madly, found Ron's little stunts funny. But even his best-friend's humour couldn't placate the cold anxiety of not knowing what was happening with Voldemort or Sirius forever.

On the occasions Harry wasn't with his friends, he was either phased out in class or found himself pacing in the boy's dormitory, too restless and worried to sleep.

When he did sleep, his dreams were a spectrum of echoes and violence. Harry dreamt of a hissing voice inside his head, and the slender, cloaked figure with burning scarlet eyes; of Lily Potter's screams which rattled inside his skull like a kettle-drum, and James' cries as he tried to protect his family. The yells of his friends as flashes of curses streaked passed, and the haunting words of Professor Trelawney.

Whenever he woke he had the urge to write to Sirius, and more than once found himself crumpled by the fireplace in the Common Room come morning. With his desire to talk to is godfather came the horrid memories of Voldemort standing over a crumpled Sirius, toying with him, and the ever-growing daily panic of not knowing what was happening in the Ministry.

Reason (and Hermione) told him that if Sirius Black had been given the Dementor's Kiss, it would have been in the _Prophet_. Harry waited with impatience every morning for Hedwig to arrive, devouring the paper with ferocity like no other.

For a week the only news had been the return of You-Know-Who, the mass revolt of the Dementors and a call for Fudge to be replaced as Minister for Magic.

It had almost been two weeks since Sirius' capture before his name became ink on paper.

Harry had only just reached the door to the Great Hall when he was hailed by the loud cries of Fred and George. He hurried towards the twins, slipping onto the bench next to Ginny and Luna, who looked out of odds in her blue uniform next too all the Gryffindor red.

The twins were pouring over the large newspaper with intent, but looked up when Harry settled.

"What does it say?" Harry asked worriedly.

"They're not going to Kiss him yet," said Ginny from beside him. Harry turned to look at her, and a pink tinge appeared in the sink around her freckles, the way it always did whenever Harry so much as glanced at her in public. She looked down quickly, then tugged the newspaper away from her brothers, ignoring their disgruntled cries.

All but throwing the paper in Harry's face, she continued, "There's going to be a trial."

"Which is the best thing we could hope for right now," George added.

Harry took the paper in both hands and read:

 _SIRIUS BLACK, CAPURED **  
**By Justin Warrington, Correspondent for the Daily Prophet_

 _Late last night, Kingsley Shacklebolt, forty-one, the lead Auror in the pursuit of Sirius Black, released an official Ministry statement that Black, the infamous first ever escapee from the British Wizarding Prison, Azkaban, had been captured in the Ministry of Magic, being one of the several Death Eaters captured when You-Know-Who was revealed to have returned._

 _Currently the pressing issue of the fate of Black is being debated. Two years ago, when Black first escaped Azkaban, the British Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, said that Black should to be "[Dementor's] Kissed on sight". However, with the Magical community calling for Fudge's replacement, it brings into question whether his opinion should be heeded. [Read more on Fudge on Page Four and Five.]_

 _Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and re-appointed member of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, are both insisting on a trial for Black._

 _"All Wizards are entitled to the a trial. It is the law," Dumbledore stated when asked for a comment. Bones added, "In 1981, Black wasn't given a trial. Many captured during You-Know-Who's first reign faced a similar fate. The Ministry had a duty to give all prisoners trials, however they chose not to uphold the rights of their citizens. It is against basic human rights that he [Black] shouldn't receive one now."_

 _Though this choice could be considered dangerous and foolhardy, given Black's seeming ability to escape anywhere, the majority of the Wizengamot have agreed with Dumbledore and Bones._

 _In the time leading up to his trial, Black will be kept into the highest security cell at Azkaban which will be safeguarded by no less than two Auror's at a time._

 _"We are taking every precaution necessary to make sure Black does not escape before his trial," Bones assured the magical community._

 _A trial date has yet to be set, although Bones mentioned in passing that the trial would be private. It calls into question who will be called as witness and whether Harry Potter, the famous 'Boy-Who-Lives', will be called to give a testimony given their reason history of encounters._

 _Shacklebolt further released that Black will be interrogated under "heavy and possibly lethal" doses of Veritaserum during his trial. This was approved by St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries as long as a Black is kept under observation by a qualified Healer during the period of his trial. Black will also be subjected to a form of Legilimency where his memories will be viewed by all members of the Wizengamot._

Harry let the paper drop from his hands with despair.

"But they can't send him back to Azkaban!" he cried, feeling like a log was stuck in his throat. "It's not-"

"We know," Ginny said from beside him. "It's not fair, and it's not right. But things might take a turn for the best – you'll see."

Below the table, out of sight from their friends and her brother's, Harry felt a warm hand slip into his own. He welcomed the warmth of Ginny's touch, as well as the comfort of knowing that he wasn't entirely alone in the world.

* * *

 **Author's Note(s)** **:** **Dumbledore's phrase "Inter arma enim silent leges" is latin and ruffly translates to "in times of war the law falls silent".**

 **I know Harry and Ginny got together in Half-Blood Prince but i couldn't help myself setting them up because it seemed like such a perfect situation what with her comforting Harry.**

 **Like the previous chapter, some ideas were taken from the book however i didn't copy anything line by line this time. i also cut out the whole conversation between Harry and Dumbledore because that would have literally been the same as from the book excluding Harry's breakdown over Sirius' death, hence the reason i mentioned that it happened by didn't rewrite it... if that makes sense :)**

 **This was not beta read and i'm sorry it's a little ruff along the edges (i'm going on holiday tomorrow so i tried to finish it as quickly as i could). If you do spot any mistakes, please tell me and i'll fix them as soon as i'm able too :)**


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